Fire and Ice
by RaNdOm Hp FaN
Summary: Slash warning!!! If you don't like, don't read, and don't flame. What would you do for love? Full Summary inside.
1. Prologue Part 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for the plot, Dave Conrad, Jack Spencer, and the idea of an Accursed. And if I don't get the exact details right about the British laws and customs etc., it's because this is in my own mind. I live in College Station… not London.

SLASH WARNING!!! Turn back now if this is not your brand of vodka.

Summary: The Gryffindor Trio thought they would be together forever. But when two choose each other, what's the third wheel to do? He finds a secret love in an unexpected place, and when his family finds out, he must decide between those he has loved forever, and the one who he is loyal to, and can't live without. Prologue begins in 7th year, during the Christmas break. Real story picks up at 9 years post-Hogwarts.

Prologue-part 1

The dark-haired youth silently climbed the countless stone steps to the southernmost tower of the Hogwarts castle. He knew for a fact that it would be deserted, as half of the population thought it was haunted, and the other half, knew it for absolute certain. But Peeves and the other Hogwarts ghosts would leave him alone, if only for the influence of another person, coming soon. He sighed, and surveyed the dark landscape. The moon was full, but the hills and forest were dark. Werewolves could be heard howling in the distance, but it was not this that chilled the 7th year.

Green eyes glinted in the moonlight and his black winter cloak was wrapped tightly around him. His bangs fell into his eyes as the wind blew across the tops of the towers. Strangely enough, it was too cold even for the usual occupants of the Astronomy Tower. But it was not by choice that the youth was standing outside in the cold.

An equally silent figure stood behind the darker one, a study of light to the Gryffindor's dark colors. It was similarly cloaked, but blonde hair fluttered in the wind. "Potter," a deep tenor spoke.

Harry jumped, turning. "You scared me."

"I scare a great many people. Why should you be any different, servus?" the pale stranger replied, coming closer, to brush the other teen's hair from his emerald eyes.

"Because of who I am, and who we are to each other, dominus," Harry said, rubbing his hands together to prevent them from numbing in the cool night air.

"You would think so. But many things that are, are not to be," he said, walking to stand face to face with the other teen. "You are cold, Harry?" He took Harry's hand in his.

Harry desperately tried not to notice the fact that the other person's hand was ice cold. "It is nearly freezing up here," he replied, dodging the question.

The blonde placed both of their hands on Harry's chest above his heart. The heartbeat was strong and the blonde closed his eyes, losing himself in the percussive rhythm. "You know what I require, servus."

Harry nodded. It was why the other teen had called him to this tower every night since a fateful night in November. "I do, dominus."

The blonde opened his eyes, showing clearly silver irises and pupils; the transition was quick. Harry paused and thought how oddly beautiful the other looked in the moonlight. 

He came closer, then grabbed Harry roughly by the left arm, and tipped the brunette's head to the left side. He bared his fangs and sank them deeply into Harry's jugular.

Harry gasped slightly, but neither cried out, nor struggled. After a few seconds, his knees buckled and the vampire grabbed him with his other hand, holding him upright. Harry's eyes closed, as the pain became less intense.

The vampire stopped, pulling away. His hold on the Gryffindor became softer, and shifted lower to his elbows. "Harry, are you alright? That was all for tonight," he asked gently.

Harry nodded weakly; his head was somewhere between swimming and pounding. "I… I need to sit," his voice rasped dryly.

The vampire nodded, lowering the willing victim to the stone floor, with his back to the walls. He sank beside Harry and took a cloth from his pocket, wiping his mouth with it. He refolded it and handed it to Harry, who pressed it to his still bleeding neck. "Is that better?"

Harry nodded tightly, and then looked up at the stars. "Orion is bright tonight."

"Merlin, Harry, you sound like a bloody centaur," the vampire muttered.

"I can only answer with two barbs. One, it is better to be a centaur than undead for eternity. And two, if anyone's bloody here, it's you. After all, this was your work," Harry retorted, taking the blood restorative potion from the blonde's hand. "At least you're starting to warm up. You were ice cold there for a bit."

"You know that I can never thank you enough for this, Harry," the vampire said sadly. His eyes were blue-gray again, and his teeth were back to human normal. 

Harry drank the bitter liquid and winced, shivering at the taste. The vampire put his hand on Harry's left shoulder in support. 

"I know. Just remember, dominus. I do this from the goodness of my own bone marrow," Harry replied. "Always have." Left unspoken were the words, 'always will.'

"Did you want to head back to the tower already?" the vampire asked gently. 

"Not until this stops bleeding and my head has cleared up a bit more. Wouldn't do well to have to explain why I knocked myself unconscious tripping over something in the common room because I can't walk straight," Harry replied. "Is that okay with you?"

"Of course," his companion replied, pulling Harry's cloak tightly around the shivering Gryffindor. He could have lifted Harry and carried him back, but that made the human a bit uncomfortable. Harry knew that he was light enough, even a human could do that easily. It made him an excellent Seeker, but lead to people believing he was too small, even at 17. The vampire smiled and moved closer, sharing what little warmth his body had with Harry. "The stars _are_ bright tonight," he said, looking up, knowing what reaction he would get.

He was not disappointed. "Now who's the centaur?" Harry asked wryly.

--00--

It was almost 4 am by the time that Harry made it back to his bed in Gryffindor tower. He was drained from almost a month of potions and bites, but he knew that the other needed him. Harry grabbed a turtleneck shirt from the place where he kept it under his pillow and changed out of his linen pajama top, into the soft black fabric. Grasping his wand, he muttered a quick healing spell. He ran his fingers over the bite, finding it tender, but the skin was unbroken. It would bruise, but that was a matter for the morning. 

He pulled the curtains closed, checking to make sure there was no blood on the pajama top he had worn earlier, before stuffing it under the foot of his bed. The soft pillow and warm duvet erased all thoughts of the southern tower, and Harry fell asleep cradled in the familiar surroundings of his room.

--00-- 

He was woken at 9 am by Ron, who was making noise in his own trunk, perhaps looking for his chess set. It was the only thing that Ron kept in the bottom of his trunk, and was therefore the noisiest to remove.

"Ron, could you bloody well knock that off?" Harry asked groggily, pushing back his curtains to look at his redheaded friend. "I was trying to sleep."

"Harry, you went to bed before I did. How are you still tired?" he asked, turning to look at his friend, then frowning. "Are you feeling okay?"

"It was a long night," Harry muttered, nearly falling as he got out of bed, due to his general clumsiness. He waved Ron off, before going to his trunk and pulling his shower things out of the top. His razor, shampoo, soap, and washcloth had lay perfectly arranged, next to his toothbrush and toothpaste. How he managed to keep everything clean in a room like this, he never figured out. He also grabbed his towel and robe. 

He stumbled to the lavatory and laughed weakly at what Ron had been frowning at. A very tired 17-year-old stared back at him. Bags lay under his verdant eyes, his hair was a tangled mess and his skin was almost white. Not that he ever had a tan to begin with, but it meant that the potion hadn't kicked in to full potency yet. He locked the door, then lifted the turtleneck over his head and groaned quietly. 

Although the bite could indeed be taken for a simple bruise or, god forbid, a hickey, the two bruises on his arms were shaped like the vampire's hands. There was no way they would be mistaken for anything else. He sighed and turned on the shower, undressing the rest of the way quickly. Moments later, Harry rubbed the dried blood from his neck and brought the soap to his upper arms, wincing on contact with the bruises. He really needed to find the spell to get rid of those. Maybe the vampire would know. 

After a few minutes, Harry stepped out and slipped into his bathrobe, laying his towel on his shoulders as he unlocked the door to see if anyone was in the dorm anymore. Both Seamus and Dean had gone home for Christmas, but Dean lived in the Head Boy's suite, so he wouldn't have been there anyways. Neville must be downstairs, perhaps with Ron, as neither of them were in the room. Harry sighed in relief. He grabbed the turtleneck again and dressed in that, a pair of blue jeans, and running shoes before picking up a comb and attacking his legendary (or infamous) hair. 

After he was convinced that he looked more or less presentable, he walked down the stairs to the Common Room with a book in hand. In his old age, he was turning into Hermione, even though he would vehemently deny it if confronted.

"Morning, Harry," Hermione said. "Sleep well?"

"Not really. He was tossing and turning all night," Ron said, from the chessboard where he sat with Neville, obviously winning the match.

"Thanks, Ron. I don't think everyone worries about me enough," Harry muttered, flopping on the couch in front of the fireplace and grabbing a blanket from the arm of the couch. He opened the book where the black ribbon marked his place and began to read.

Hermione got up from the chair where she sat and walked behind him. She leaned over, trying to read the yellowed pages, but had no luck. "Harry?" she asked, gently touching him on his arm to get his attention. 

She unknowingly touched his bruises and he flinched. "What?"

"Sorry. What are you reading? I don't understand it," she said, noting his sore arm. 

The first thought to enter Harry's mind was that she shouldn't be reading this book. The second was to ask why she couldn't. Instead, he went with thought number three. "Oh. This book is one that someone or another took out of the Restricted Section. I found it and thought that I would return it when Madame Pince got back from holidays," he said, trying to bluff. He covered the pages with his lower arm.

"What language is it in?" she asked.

"That's what you meant?"

"Yes. What language?"

Thinking quickly, he grabbed the green crystal pendant around his neck in a show of nervousness. "I don't know. But it looks like English to me. I don't understand. Maybe it's some weird form of Parseltongue." Great idea, Potter, way to make her _less_ suspicious.

"But if it's…"

"I'm going to go see if I can talk the elves into a cup of coffee. Be back in a bit," Harry said, trying to avoid answering the inevitable question of 'if it's in Parseltongue, who would check it out but you?'

Ron caught his arm as Harry passed. "What do you think about this mess Nev's got himself into now?"

Harry tried not to wince too much as he removed Ron's hand from his arm. "Looks okay to me, but chess was never my strong suit."

"Harry, are you sure you're okay? What did you do to your arm?" Ron asked.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Harry, have you seen Pomfrey about it?" Hermione asked.

Harry glared at both in turn and replied with acid in his voice. "First off, there's nothing wrong with me or my arm. And second, if you don't recall, last school year and all except the last part of the summer, I spent nearly 4 months in the Hospital Wing, after my stay in St. Mungo's trying to recover from my battle with Voldemort. So I'm not in an awful hurry to put myself back in that place. I'm fine. There's nothing wrong," he said.

Ron grabbed Harry's arm again and squeezed. He watched as Harry bit his lip and his eyes began to water in pain. "You're fine? Could have fooled me. You've been getting paler for a month now, and you're certain that nothing is wrong? Trust us, Harry, we keep an eye on you from time to time, and you are not okay."

Harry knocked Ron's arm away with such a swift movement, it shocked the other three Gryffindors. "Leave me the hell alone, Ron," he said in such a dangerously low voice that it forced Neville to cower. "I just want to be left alone."

--00--

To read is human, to review divine!


	2. Prologue Part2

_ "Conscience commands; love inspires. What we do out of love, we do because we want to do it. Love is, indeed, one kind of desire; but it is a kind that takes us out of ourselves and carries us beyond ourselves, in contrast to the kind that is self-seeking—a kind that includes the desire for the "extinguishedness" of Nirvana." - A.J. Toynbee_

Prologue Part Two

Harry stopped running in a deserted hallway and gave a password to a seldom-used study in the North tower. He ducked inside and collapsed on the couch, casting an Incendio charm to warm the room. Less than a moment later, the fire blazed in the hearth and he sighed. He was unaccustomed to fighting his friends in such a manner, but he couldn't tell them anything. And he resented their annoying inquisitions. They didn't care. Only one person truly did.

The door opened again and the vampire stepped in. He was dressed in wrinkled dark robes and his blonde hair was mussed. "What is it, Harry? I was asleep."

"This isn't in English?" he asked, holding up the book.

"I thought it was," the other yawned. He walked over to the raven-haired human and kissed him on the crown of his head, smoothing the trademark unruly tresses gently.

"Well, Hermione can't read it. And you know her, she can read most of the languages in Western Europe, as well as recognizing the rest of the world's," he replied pedantically. 

"I'll have a look at it later, okay Harry?" the vampire asked, collapsing on the couch next to Harry. "Far too tired now to deal with something that trivial now."

"You aren't the one regrowing blood cells," Harry countered.

"No. But I'm nocturnal. I need the sleep as much as you do," the vampire replied, laying back against the arm of the sofa. "Go to sleep. I've been mostly dead all day."

"Me too," Harry said, leaning against the vampire, encircled in the other's strong arms.

It was late afternoon before they awoke, and Harry left to return to the Common Room about 30 minutes afterward. They had searched the book, but found no real explanation for the earlier confusion. Harry kept the book, as the other had given it to him, and Harry was only about a third of the way through the thick tome.

He nicked a bit of food from the kitchen, to allay the other's fears about him not eating anything all day and went up to his bed. He found Ron and Hermione already in there, as he suspected, making out. He cleared his throat and said, "Hermione, you have your own rooms. Why don't you two go have a snog in there?"

The two jumped and parted, looking at Harry and adopting equally sheepish expressions. "We were… um… waiting for you to come back."

Harry emptied his pockets, revealing a wrapped sandwich, a red apple, a handful of carrot sticks and a cherry turnover. "You must have been waiting a long time," he replied simply.

"Harry, we're sorry about earlier. You're right. We have no right to accuse you of hiding something like that," Hermione said.

Harry lay down and picked up the apple, shining it on his jumper. "Whatever," he said, opening the book again.

"We don't understand. You've never shut us out like this before, even the night before you faced Voldemort," Ron said, moving toward the edge of his bed. They both remembered how he went to the North Tower and sat there for hours, hoping that the dawn would never come.

"Then maybe I should have," Harry countered darkly, biting into the apple.

"Harry, what is wrong with you?" Ron asked harshly.

"Like I said before. It's nothing. I'm fine."

"If you don't tell us, we may have to tell your godfather and Remus. We're really concerned," Hermione said.

Harry bit back the mean response that was fighting to come out. Instead, he rolled his eyes and muttered, "Bloody hell."

Hermione saw that they weren't getting anywhere. "Ron, let's go to dinner," she said, taking her boyfriend by the arm and walking out of the room.

Harry flipped angrily to the page where he had left off earlier. They were so wrapped up in each other, his welfare readily fell by the wayside. He didn't mind. He had far too many people worrying about him, as he had mentioned earlier. Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, Pomfrey, McGonagall, his yearmates, the entire Weasley clan, the Gryffindor Quidditch team and younger Gryffindors all belonged to that list. The vampire was never officially part of that list, as only Harry knew what the vampire thought about him. 

Hermione and Ron were the quintessential item in Gryffindor house, and what did it matter if the triangle that was once equilateral was now shaped differently, with Harry at the far end, by himself.

Harry shook his head and read from the book's pages.

'The relationship between that of a vampire and his blood consort is a formalized one and may sometimes become so much more. Although a consort is usually chosen from among the friends or family of an Accursed vampire, it is a special person who is chosen. The consort must be loyal and selfless. The sharing of life's vital fluid is not only a great sacrifice, but it is a sign of emotional closeness and often leads to deep bonds of love and caring between the two. The servant will be endowed with resistance to the infectious nature of the Bite, although he will have to devote himself fully to gain this protection.

'When the master requires the servant, the human can be summoned, even out of a sound sleep, but will not respond if comatose or near death. Summoning is a function of telepathy and some blood servants will learn the vampire dialects, such as the one written here, through their closeness with their Master…'

"That's it…" Harry breathed, nearly dropping the apple. He picked up the sandwich and continued to read all night long.

At two in the morning, Harry felt yet again pulled to meet with the vampire. This time, he found himself in their secret study.

The vampire was already waiting. "A beautiful night, isn't it?"

Harry nodded, saying, "Indoors tonight?"

"I didn't want you to freeze, Harry," he said, as Harry dropped the cloak from around his neck. Harry had realized that the vampire couldn't feed through a turtleneck, so he had worn a short-sleeved t-shirt. 

The vampire gently touched Harry's arms where the bruises fell below his sleeves. "This was my doing?"

Harry hesitated, and then nodded reluctantly. "They really don't hurt that bad, except when Ron grabbed them."

"What a prat. I promise to be more careful about how I hold you when I feed from now on. I shall endeavor to be more gentle, Harry," the vampire said, pulling Harry into a passionate kiss. He raked his long fingers through the unkempt raven black hair and held Harry gently with an arm looped around the small of his back.

"Ron and Hermione are getting suspicious… of me," Harry added as they parted. "I like your cologne," he murmured.

"Well then, my beloved Gryffindor, we shall have to be less conspicuous with the bites." He pushed Harry onto the couch and exposed the other boy's right collarbone. "Better?"

Harry smiled. "Much better."

The vampire waved his hand and lit a roaring fire in the fireplace. He bent down, placing his right knee between Harry's legs and drank of his servant again.

Harry, for his part, lay back against the cushions and warm blankets and waited for the end, which came rather quickly. 

The vampire pulled away and maneuvered the lighter man into his lap. Harry once again fell asleep, in the arms of his vampire master and the warmth of the fire.

The blonde was gone when Harry woke up. Harry stretched, popping his right shoulder in the process and yawned. He looked down at the position of the latest mark. He had sweaters that would cover that easily, but the spell for healing bruises would take longer than that for skin. He would have to set aside at least 15 minutes to heal both before the others wouldn't notice. He idly glanced at his watch, then looked again and swore violently. It was 10:37 in the morning. And he hadn't made it back to the Gryffindor Common Room all night long, or in the daylight hours either. To compound the matter, there was blood on his shirt. He was screwed.

He summoned his Invisibility Cloak and ran back to the Tower to change. Just outside the Gryffindor Rooms, he came across Sirius, Hermione and Ron.

"I don't know, Hermione. You could be overly suspicious, and I'd like to think that Harry would come to me if there was something more than usually wrong with him," Sirius said. Good old Sirius. Faithful and trusting to the bitter end.

"Sirius, he's a lot more distant than he used to be. And it's not like he left the dorms this morning. He has been gone since sometime after midnight. And he hasn't come back yet," Ron protested.

Sirius looked the both of them over. "From what I understand, the two of you are a couple now. Harry's probably trying to give you space. It's what I did when his mum and dad hooked up."

"Then how about the injuries he won't tell us about? He's got something wrong with both arms at least," Hermione countered.

"All right," Sirius replied, sighing and running his fingers through his dark hair, a gesture that reminded them of Harry. They were a great deal alike. Solitary, somewhat tortured by their pasts and yet mischievous beyond belief when inspired. "I just wish that we had something more concrete than what could be a Quidditch injury and a bout of snogging in the Astronomy Tower. That's all." He paused. "And I've got to find him first. Does he have the Map?"

"Yeah. It's in his trunk. But I don't know the words to unlock it," Ron replied.

Harry ran through the open portal and grabbed clothes from his wardrobe. He rushed into the bathroom to change and wiped away the blood with a wet washcloth. It was lucky that Gryffindor colors were scarlet and gold. His washcloth wasn't stained a different color after he was finished. 

By the time he had finished, there weren't 3 people in the room besides him. A fourth had joined them, unannounced. Remus Lupin.

The three standing near the foot of Harry's bed were talking softly until Hermione squeaked, "Harry?"

Harry sighed. "Yes?" But his expression changed from annoyed to panicked as he saw Remus reading a familiar and rather dangerously incriminating book.

Remus was pale and drawn from the previous full moon. His robes practically hung off his body, as though they were somebody else's. But instead of the normally gentle expression, he looked absolutely furious as he looked at Harry. Amber eyes smoldered and Harry was truly afraid of what the lycanthrope knew.

"Harry, we need to talk. Now. Sirius, let's go," Remus said, in a calm tone, but Harry could hear the raging emotion fighting for dominance.

Sirius draped his arm around Harry's shoulder, and the trio of Potter, Black and Lupin left the dorm. Hermione and Ron could only watch as they departed.

Next part of the prologue… explanations with canines, and loud arguments!

A/N See my profile for the name of my Yahoo Group. Join today, and you'll know when I next post! 

This is a repost… several of my favorite lines were excluded by accident. It's fine now, though.

*Shameless Plugging Alert. If you haven't already, please check out my other fics. "Tears of the Wolf", "Nepenthes", and "The Silver Serpent" are up now. Coming soon, "Heron"!


	3. Prologue Part 3

Immature love says: "I love you because I need you." Mature love says: "I need you because I love you."

--Erich Fromm

Prologue Part Three 

The three walked in silence to Dumbledore's office. 

As soon as the door opened, Remus snapped, "Harry, sit down."

Harry wisely decided to comply. He took a high-backed chair in front of the Headmaster's desk and waited for the other shoe to drop.

Remus held out the book to Albus, who adopted a pained expression as he surveyed it. He glanced at Harry, then opened the book, paging through it in silence for a few minutes. "Harry, is there anything you wish to tell us?" he asked in the gentle voice that could either soothe or madden.

"No… not really, Headmaster," Harry stammered.

"What's wrong, Albus?" Sirius asked.

"This is a book not written in English. First off is the matter of how Harry got this book, as it has never been a part of the Hogwarts' library. Second, it is written in a dialect used almost exclusively by a non-human creature. Therefore, the language is innate in only those not entirely human, or humans with a direct connection to one of those beings. I can read it because I am half elf. Remus can read it because he is a werewolf," Dumbledore explained. 

Harry's heart sank, and he pressed himself back into the cushions. His only thought was, 'Oh, shit.'

"Factor in the detail that Harry and certain pieces of his clothing smell of blood, and we have a larger problem," Remus added threateningly.

Harry put his face in his hands. He decided to voice his solitary thought. "Shit."

Sirius knelt in front of him, trying to look him in the eye.

"I forgot how good Remus' sense of smell was…" Harry muttered. "Son of a bitch."

"Harry, what is going on?" Sirius asked gently, playing the role of good cop.

"Padfoot, this book is written in the common language of vampires." Remus spoke the damning words. "And I pray to all the gods that ever were that that blood is your own, Harry, because if not…"

"It's mine," Harry muttered, his breath tight in his chest. He removed his hands, to reveal tearful green eyes.

"Harry, please show us your arms," Sirius said.

Harry sank back further into the chair. "I…" he began.

Remus had taken to pacing behind Harry. "Harry, just do it," he snapped, earning a harsh look from Sirius.

Harry reluctantly revealed the marks on his arms. Sirius was livid but silent, Remus glared darkly and Albus sighed. "Are there more bruises?" the Headmaster asked.

Harry shook his head. "No more bruises. He saw them and he apologized. He promised never to do that again," Harry whispered.

"And the bites?"

Harry didn't meet anyone's eyes as he lowered his collar to reveal the bruise from two nights before and the bite from the previous night. Two perfect fang marks lay on a bruised patch of skin above his collarbone. He hadn't had time to do either healing spell on it. Finally, a single tear fell from each eye, either from mortification or the release of the emotional stress of lying to his family.

"Harry…" Sirius breathed as Harry replaced the collar of his shirt. "Why?"

"He needed someone, and I was the only one he trusted. I was having a nightmare and so I went for a walk. I met up with him in a hallway, and I had to help him."

"How long, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"November," Harry whispered.

"November?" Sirius asked, sitting in the chair next to Harry. He was trying to be supportive of his godson, but this was too much. There was only so much that he could understand and accept.

Harry nodded. "He was cursed by a gypsy after the fall of Voldemort. His entire family was cursed. The curses were to kick in on their next birthdays. It seems his birthday was in November, even though he was told it was June. His parents lied about his birthday because he was conceived out of wedlock."

Remus stopped pacing. "An Accursed vampire? Then he was dying when you found him?"

"Yes."

"Accursed?"

"As human as Harry is, until the amount of oxygen in their blood gets too low. Then they must consume human blood, and they are restored. They have extraordinarily long lives, as do their consorts. The vampires can go out in sunlight, but must still avoid garlic and crosses," Remus explained, professor mode kicking in. "They're rare, but still feared."

"Harry, has he ever drawn from another?" Dumbledore asked, concerned for the safety of his students.

"No."

"No, not to your knowledge, or you are certain?"

"No, I am certain. He has needed to draw every night for the past month, and I would know if he skipped for some reason. He has been drawing less, but that has more to do with the fact that he is less stressed than he was during term," Harry clarified.

"Drawing? How the hell are you so calm about his?" Sirius demanded.

"Sirius, it's okay," Harry said, trying to calm the Animagus. "I mean… yeah, it hurts… but once the bite's over, it's over, and the feeling of calm and peace is indescribable."

"You… you're okay with this?"

"He switches veins so that one doesn't become too knotted or sore. When he finishes, he usually waits with me until I feel better. He brews a blood restorative that's second to none. He makes me feel protected when we're together. Considering the fact that he does drink my blood, he's remarkably considerate about the entire thing."

"I take it that he is a seventh year, Harry?" Albus asked.

"Yes. Otherwise, he would have chosen someone else, in a lower year."

"Which House?" Remus asked, pressing more gently than he had previously. This caught Harry's attention and he eyed Remus warily, before realizing what the werewolf was trying to do.

"You just want to know who it is!" he said, looking at the others. "You know that we would have come forward if we didn't want it to be kept a secret. I can't help that you know, but I'll be damned if I'm going to tell you who he is."

"Harry…" Sirius began.

"No," he said forcefully, getting to his feet. "This isn't about you, or what you want. This isn't about the school. He doesn't pose a threat to anyone. This is instead about me and him." He stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

"That could have gone better," Albus remarked.

"What do we do now?" Sirius asked.

"We keep trying. The two of them might not realize how dangerous this is," Remus said.

Less than 5 minutes later, Harry was still absolutely furious and passed Ron and Hermione in the hallway. 

"Harry, what is it?"

"You just had to say something, didn't you?" he growled.

"What?"

"Well, allow me to give you a brief synopsis of the past half hour. Remus is pissed off at me, Sirius wants to get my head examined, and Dumbledore is not going to leave me alone until he has what he thinks is the whole story, knowing how much I usually hold back," he said, stopping in front of them.

"What story?" Hermione asked.

"Why don't you go ask them?" he demanded venomously. "I'm absolutely certain that they would be willing to tell you, since you were the ones who brought it to their attention."

Harry turned and walked away, headed to the room in the North Tower. After giving the password, he lit the hearth and sat on the sofa. Things were definitely getting out of hand. Three people knew for a fact that he was a consort, and another two would know before the day was out. They just didn't know the vampire's name, a secret that Harry would fight to protect. Dumbledore would be forced to expel the vampire if the news ever broke, and that meant that Harry would have to leave too, despite whatever protests his family would give. 

The teen cast his eyes to the blazing fire, which crackled in the quiet room, sending red-orange sparks up the flue. He hadn't remembered being this cold before, not in a room with a fire. Grabbing a blanket, he noticed the bottle of blood restorative on the table where the vampire had left it. Harry smiled and drank it. He must have forgotten it in the morning, when he raced out of the room and into the waiting arms of the others. Harry curled up under the blanket, kicked off his shoes and sighed.

Less than 10 minutes later, the blonde burst through the door. "What is it?" he asked startled as he walked to the couch. "Merlin, I thought you were in big trouble from what I was reading. I'd never heard you swear so much in one sitting."

"_We are in trouble._ Dumbledore knows I'm a consort, but he doesn't know who my master is," Harry said, sitting up.

Icy shivers ran down the vampire's spine and he sat on the couch. "This is bad. Very, very bad."

"Look, it's what? Six months until we graduate. We can manage if we're careful," Harry said, covering both of them with the blanket. "Besides, I'm in trouble all the time."

"Six months? Holy shit, Harry. In this place, six months is five months and 30 days too long to keep a secret. We are _so_ screwed."

Harry embraced the vampire. "All we have to do is be careful. No more accidental bruises, no more forgetting to heal bites. Potions every time you feed and no revealing any of our abilities to anyone but us."

"I haven't told anyone about us, Harry," the vampire said, a bit hurt by the statement. 

"Oh, love, I didn't mean anything by it," Harry replied.

The vampire leaned back a bit and stared into the fire. "Harry, please tell me you aren't lying to protect my feelings. I'm not worth that right now."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't think that now is the time for logical thought, my beloved."

Harry frowned in thought. "Is there any other kind of thought?"

"Yes, love," the blonde said, drawing Harry close. "There is."

Remus left Albus' office to find Ron and Hermione waiting nearby. They were startled by his appearance, meaning that they had been taking advantage of their solitude. No wonder Harry was distancing himself from them. "Professor Lupin!" Hermione squeaked.

"Hermione, you can call me Remus. I haven't been your professor for 3 ½ years," Remus said quietly, trying to trace Harry's scent. 

"Remus, what's wrong with Harry? He wouldn't tell us. He told us to ask you," Ron said.

Remus sighed. "I wish he'd have said something to you. I hate having to think about it, much less explain it. But what could we have expected, after he stormed out like that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we did back him into a corner." Remus rubbed his forehead, before drawing his wand and casting a silencing bubble around the three of them.

"What is it?" Ron asked, impatiently.

"Hermione, you remember our studies in your third year about Accursed vampires?"

Hermione froze. "You don't mean…"

"No. Harry is not an Accursed. Think of another possibility," Remus said, calmingly.

"He's a… blood consort?" she said, her face going ashen. "Oh my God!"

"Ron, any idea what we're talking about?" Remus asked as he saw Ron looking at the both of them in a cloud of confusion.

Ron shook his head.

"Honestly, Ron!" Hermione muttered. "Blood consorts are servants of Accursed vampires who are the vampire's primary source of food, but remain unaffected by the bites."

"What?!?" Ron asked, the reality of the statement sinking in.

"He won't tell us who the vampire is, but apparently, he is a student as well. Harry has been consort to this vampire for nearly a month now," Remus explained.

"I don't understand. Why?" Hermione asked.

Reasons that Remus would never say aloud in polite conversations flashed through his mind and he fought to not say them. "Well, it appears that Harry is doing this as a mission of mercy. The vampire was dying at the time, but the arrangement could be permanent. At least, it is Harry's intention to continue until graduation."

"You mean he's actually allowing a bloody vampire to bite him?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Yes, Ron. And if he reacted that way to us for asking, you should be cautious about what you say to him about it, okay?" Remus asked, breaking the charm and walking away.

The three looked troubled, as if consumed from the inside out trying to cope with Harry's decision.

Ch4. Making up with friends, but keeping secrets. Maybe a visit to Hogsmeade. We'll see.


	4. Prologue Part 4

Speculations about love's credentials, or lack of credentials, cannot either enhance or diminish love's absoluteness. –A.J. Toynbee

Harry lounged lazily in the vampire's arms and watched the newly falling snow through the window. 

"Awake again?" the blonde asked.

"Not really. How are you feeling?" Harry asked, turning so that green met blue.

"Good enough. I might not even need to feed tonight."

Harry smiled and playfully said, "Yay! A full night of sleep!"

"Don't get too excited. I said might. I'm just saying that maybe I'm finally getting used to it," the immortal said. "I'll need to draw less, I told you that, didn't I?"

"No, but I read it in the book," Harry replied, before sitting straight up suddenly in panic. "Oh shit!"

"What?" the vampire asked, concerned. 

"The book. Dumbledore has it in his office. Remus found it under my pillow and gave it to the Headmaster. They can both read it," he hissed.

"It's okay, Harry," the vampire said, pulling Harry back down to his previous position. "We'll either get it back or we won't. Don't worry. It's just a book."

"I can hear Hermione's outrage from here," Harry joked.

"Dear God. You had to drag Granger into this?" the immortal asked.

"Like it or not, she is still my friend. Even though she and Ron rarely give a shit about me anymore unless it suits their purpose," Harry replied, sighing. "Part and parcel of taking Harry Potter as your blood consort, I suppose. All the emotional problems and angst you could ever want, with none of the rewards."

"I wouldn't say that. You're… just complex. But you're far too loving and compassionate to make me think of you as 'not rewarding'," he said, squeezing the Gryffindor again. He listened as sounds of laughter came from the hallway outside. "We should really go to dinner. If both of us aren't there, they'll figure it out. And you need to eat."

"Maybe, but I don't know if I can face my friends right now," Harry replied, sinking deeper into his master's embrace.

The vampire sighed. "Harry, there's a bloody good reason you're in Gryffindor. You're courageous, and you are my rock. You can face them, and I'll be right here," he said, kissing Harry's forehead and placing his hand on Harry's heart. "I have faith in you. Put your shoes on. You go first."

Harry took a deep breath before entering the Great Hall. He cast a venomous look toward the Staff table where Sirius and Remus sat, then sat at the empty end of the Gryffindor table, in front of the fireplace. He reached for his fork and began eating the roast beef and potatoes that appeared on his plate. The vampire was right. He was hungry. But then again, he had been skipping meals lately, and there was no reason to pretend that he wasn't losing weight. He just was rarely hungry any more and he would have checked the book to see if that was normal, except that it was still in the capable hands of one Albus Dumbledore. Sighing, he stabbed at a potato and nearly sent it flying across the table.

He was halfway done before Ron and Hermione came close and sat down across from him. Harry tried not to sigh too heavily, but kept eating silently.

"Harry… you're not speaking to us?" Ron asked.

"Depends," he said, reaching for his goblet. "Give me a good reason to talk to you and I will. I take it someone explained the situation to you?"

"Remus did, yes," Hermione replied gently.

"I thought as much," Harry muttered, drinking his pumpkin juice. "I expected him to ask you to find out who he was."

"He didn't, but we still are kind of curious," Ron said.

Hermione hit Ron on the left arm. 

"Ow! What was that for?" Ron asked.

"For being a prat, one might suppose," an acid voice said passing by the table and heading for his own.

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy," Ron retorted, rubbing his arm.

Harry went back to eating, completely ignoring the presence of the Slytherin. His left thumb had worked its way under his shirt and he stroked the bite mark thoughtfully.

Hermione tried to get his attention. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said, giving his blanket answer while poking at his food. 

"Harry, we promise not to push you into saying anything if you don't want to," Ron said.

"But if you do, we'll listen," Hermione added gently.

"Just so as you know, it's not bloody likely. But tell you what. Since you guys probably aren't too happy with my whole solitary kick, what say the three of us leg it to Hogsmeade tomorrow and finish up our shopping, as Christmas Eve is a day away?" Harry replied.

Their faces lit up, and for the first time in weeks, Harry smiled, secure in the thought that things would be okay.

Harry lay on the sofa that night at two in the morning, awaiting the vampire, just in case he was needed. He had fallen asleep as soon as he lay down and he snored softly in the velvet cushions. A blanket was drawn over his right shoulder and he faced the fire.

The vampire did not disappoint. He gently brushed aside the bangs from Harry's scar, then the fingers trailed down his temple to his cheekbones and finally his jaw. Harry stirred, but did not wake. The vampire smiled at Harry and stroked his face for a few minutes more, lovingly. He finished by planting a gentle kiss on Harry's scar and, using his own powers, ensured that the Gryffindor would sleep soundly that night.

The blonde removed his boots and joined Harry on the couch, as it was deep enough for two people to sleep comfortably. He draped his right arm possessively over Harry's stomach and went to sleep as well.

Morning found them in the same spot, and Harry woke first. He yawned, careful not to move too much, then watched as the dying embers of the fire glowed his house color. 

"Sleep well?" a groggy voice asked from behind him.

Harry turned to face his master. "I… did. You weren't thirsty?"

The vampire smiled. "Technically speaking, it's more of a hunger than a thirst. And no. So you're headed to Hogsmeade today?"

"Last minute shopping to do, love," Harry said, turning over completely to face him.

"And it doesn't hurt that you managed to patch things up between you and your friends. See, I had faith in you," the vampire said, stroking Harry's cheek again.

Harry smiled in response. "And what about you?"

"I'll probably go on my own. I have a bit of shopping to do myself." They sat up. "What time is it, Harry?"

"Eight oh five. Almost time for breakfast."

"You really should eat more, you know?" the vampire asked, trailing his hand down Harry's flat stomach to where his hip bones jutted out at the waist of his pajama pants. "You're far too thin, especially after last year."

"So I lost muscle mass. I've always been small," Harry replied.

"I'm just saying. A bit more muscle and maybe some body fat reserves would do you some good."

"You're acting like… like my mother would… I think," Harry said, nearly trailing off as he turned away. 

The vampire's heart sank. He hated Harry's pain, the way it consumed him when he thought of things he would never have. Then came the fateful words that were like a wooden stake, although technically, it wouldn't have killed this kind of vampire any more than a normal human would die with an impaled object through their heart.

"You think they'd be proud of me?" Harry asked, barely above a whisper.

"Gods, yes!" he said a little too loudly, almost startling the brunette. "Harry," he continued, turning the Gryffindor's jaw back towards him. "Your life is a study in compassion, love and courage. Living for 10 years with those wretched Muggles, and yet you genuinely care for others, where some would have turned to hate. Then you come here, facing almost inconceivable danger every year and save so many lives bravely fighting it. You defeated Voldemort in some form 4 times. And me? So many people would have run in the other direction if faced with an Accursed. And you never ask for anything in return. You loyally keep my secret. If anyone in this world is not proud of you, then they do not deserve you," he replied gently.

Harry's green eyes were glassy with tears. "I used to think that you had it all, you know? A mother and father. Wealth, power, prestige, a large family, book smarts…"

"And I lost most of that. But you're right. I do have it all. I have the heart of the Boy Who Lived… and that's worth more than anything my parents ever gave me," he said, kissing Harry tenderly on the lips.

When they broke apart, Harry smiled and said in a shaky voice, "Screw breakfast. Let's go nick something from the kitchens… together."

Ron walked into the Gryffindor Common Room after breakfast that morning. He tucked a few coppery strands behind his left ear and looked to his right, where he found Harry sitting on the couch, a mildly manic grin on his face as he looked at the fireplace. "Where've you been, mate?"

Harry turned, his eyes mirthful for the first time that Ron could remember this year. "Went to the kitchens for breakfast instead. I'd been meaning to visit Dobby for quite some time." He picked up his left shoe from the floor and pulled it on, tying his shoelaces in a double knot. "You ready to head out?"

"Yeah. Let me go get my cloak and we can find Hermione," Ron replied, frowning slightly as he caught sight of a vivid bruise on Harry's neck. "Harry, that's not another…"

He put his hand to his neck and sighed. "No. That would be an actual honest-to-God hickey." Giving another manic grin, he said, "You should see the one I gave. Turtlenecks for a week with that one, I promise you."

Ron smiled. "I understand. I have experience with those." He walked to the stairs and up to his dorm room. He shook his head at Harry's mood and entered the 7th year's room.   
Harry's things were sitting, folded neatly on the bed. The Invisibility Cloak, the Map and his pajamas lay there, as though they had been there all night long. For a guy who used to be habitually dirty, he was remarkably neat. Had been too, ever since his absence from the middle to the end of 6th year. 

Ron opened his closet and pulled out his long cloak, wrapping it tightly around his shoulders. He then grabbed his money pouch from the shelf where he hid it wound in his scarf and walked back downstairs to rejoin Harry.

Hermione was already sitting on the couch next to him, her brown hair in wavy tresses that fell over her shoulders. "So whom did you need to shop for?" she asked. "You've already bought Ron's present, I know. I assume you wouldn't invite me if you were buying my present, and I know for a fact that I helped you pick out presents for Remus, Sirius and most of the Gryffindors."

"Well, I almost forgot my gift for the Headmaster. And…"

"And for the…"

"You can say vampire. He's pretty okay with it, and he's not in here just now," Harry said dismissively. 

"What do you call him?" she asked gently.

"Oh, well…" he said, looking at the ceiling. "Well, there's the traditional label of Master, or dominus. But if you mean nicknames?"

She nodded.

"Korintur – that's ruler of lands. Or actually, the best is in Quenya, which is a real language you know? Hir nin i Rîw. Rue for short."

"Rue?"

"It's the anglicized form of the elven word Winter."

"He's pale?"

"Actually yes. But then you should have known that, as that is a classic trait of vampirism. You're slipping, Hermione," Harry said, smiling at her. "Let me rephrase that… he's only pale when he hasn't fed for a while."

She returned the smile. "You kept your secrets well, you know. We didn't know for certain until Remus told us."

Harry sighed. "As you two might imagine," Harry said, including Ron in his gaze, "it wasn't something that I felt exceptionally free to share. It's not truly my secret to keep or disclose."

The two nodded. 

A few minutes later, the three Gryffindors followed one another out of the Portrait hole, having obtained permission to walk out the front doors from Dumbledore himself. As they walked across the grounds, they talked quietly. But to Harry's great relief, it was either filled with bickering about the importance of the upcoming NEWTs or silence, and Harry contributed little to the conversation.

He was grateful for the respite and smiled as they entered the boundaries of Hogsmeade. Harry headed for Honeydukes first, not knowing what he could get the Headmaster, or the vampire, as a smaller present.

After a half hour of agonizing decisions, Harry decided to get a box of every flavor beans (as a bit of tongue in cheek gift), some chocolate bars and a pair of warm wool socks for the Headmaster. Picking up the candies, he walked over to where Ron and Hermione was standing, the shorter of the two berating her boyfriend for his insensitivity. "What's wrong?" he asked from behind Hermione.

She jumped and turned as Ron said, "Maybe we've finally found a use for these."

Hermione fully expected Harry to be upset, or start in on Ron as she had. 

To her surprise, he took the red lollipop from Ron's hand and stared at it for a moment, before doubling over in laughter. "You know, he actually loves these," he choked out, barely on the edge of composure. He took a few more from the bin and said, "And they'd make a good gift. Sort of a request for a respite. Quirky undead sense of humor and all that."

"Harry, you're not serious," Hermione said. "These are Blood flavored Lollipops!"

"No, I'm not Sirius," he said in a somber tone. "But my godfather is. Rue really does love these." He dumped the armful on the counter as he turned to them and said, "Just one last stop… Gladrags."

By the time they made it to the clothing store, the lunch crowd had left, leaving only a few patrons inside. Harry made a beeline for the counter he had last visited. "You're holding an item for Harry Potter."

The clerk smiled at him flirtingly and pulled out a black velvet bag. "Here you are. Already paid for it?"

"Yes," he said, pulling out a piece of parchment, handing it to the young woman.

"That seems to be in order," she said, passing the bag to him. 

"Thank you," Harry said, turning and heading for the sock department. 

"What did you get?" Ron asked.

Harry smiled, and opened the drawstring bag, stopping dead in his tracks as he pulled out the witch's address written on a piece of parchment, with a beautiful signature underneath. "I swear I didn't ask for this," he said. Placing the paper in his pocket, he tipped the bag over and out fell a black leather cord suspending a silver pendant in the shape of a dragon, with emerald eyes. "This is what I bought."

Hermione gasped softly, and said, "It's beautiful."

"Very cool, mate."

"Thanks. It's for Rue."

"He likes dragons?" Ron asked.

"Yeah. A bit like Hagrid that way." Harry placed the necklace back into the bag and drew the strings, dropping it into his pants pocket. 

"What's he like? I mean… you don't have to tell us his name, but the way you talk about him…" Hermione asked.

Harry laughed, pausing at the socks area. He picked up a particularly loud red, purple and gold pair, then decided to pass. "Okay, no names. He's different than he is in classes." He sighed, looking for the words as though they were emblazoned on the ceiling in flaming 6-inch letters. "He's very pensive and quiet unless he has something to say, but you would imagine a person in his position would be."

"You care a great deal about him, don't you?" Ron asked.

"Yeah." Harry smiled again. "I guess I do. I mean, it hurts, you know, like you'd expect. But then he holds me in his arms and I know, not think… _I know_ that I am safe and protected. No one's ever made me feel like that before."

Hermione put his arm on his, lowering the socks that were in his hand. "Harry, that's love."

He looked from her to Ron. "I suppose. But… with the Dursleys, I was never… you know… for the first 5 years that I lived with them, my name was 'boy'. After that, the pronoun became it, not him, unless people were around. Like I wasn't human. I never felt… loved… until I met the two of you. But it's a different kind of love, you know? Like falling in a lake that is both ice and fire."

Hermione nodded. "You're in love with him. We understand completely. That's the way I feel about Ron. Have you told him about this?"

Harry looked at her confused. "Why would I need to tell Ron? He's standing right there."

"Not him. _Him_," she said, frustrated. 

"Try to be more careful with antecedents, then. And no." He bit his lip. "I haven't. As you might expect, I'm not really good with saying these kinds of things. How do you say it? Walk up to him and say, 'Rue, I love you so much that it hurts, and I want to know if you're in love with me too, so that we can plan our future together like Ron and Hermione have'?"

A small crash came from a section behind them, where a clothing rack seemed to have been knocked over. The trio turned, startled, until Harry realized exactly who it was. Harry hastily grabbed a pair of socks, the purple, scarlet and gold, then paid for them and left. "How about we head to the Three Broomsticks for a light lunch?"

The other two agreed, and before they entered the pub, Harry stopped them and asked, "You two aren't upset about all this?"

Ron sighed. "Well, you were acting like a bastard. Unfortunately, so were we, so you didn't seem quite so bad."

Harry smiled.

"Just don't push us away like that again," Hermione replied. "We forgive you this time."

"Yeah. We're kind of attached to you, Harry. You're awful hard to hate," Ron added.

--00--

Thanks to my reviewers!

Next chapter: Feeding time and Stress about the future.


	5. Prologue Part 5

Love's authority, like conscience's, is absolute. Like conscience, too, love needs no authentication or validation by any authority outside itself. Speculations about love's credentials, or lack of credentials, cannot either enhance or diminish love's absoluteness. – A. J. Toynbee

Prologue Part 5: Love's Authority

Harry awoke at half past one the next morning. He quietly tossed back the covers and got to his feet, parting the curtains. Harry pulled on his running shoes and his winter cloak before grabbing the Invisibility cloak and walking out of Gryffindor tower.

Mrs. Norris must have had the night off, Harry vaguely thought, while the thought in the back of his mind pulled him steadily toward the study in the North Tower. The North Tower, where his love awaited. He gave the new password and entered.

Warmth filled the room and Harry's head swam. The heat was almost stifling. 

"Harry?"

As suddenly as the connection came, the pull in Harry's mind snapped, and he gasped slightly. He looked up and smiled, pushing back the hood of the Invisibility Cloak, and then dropped it to the floor.

Strong arms took Harry by the waist and drew him further into the study. Loving fingers fumbled with the clasp on Harry's wool cloak and the garment fell to the floor beside the other, both forgotten. 

The vampire's hands were like ice as he mishandled Harry's shirt buttons to mid-chest. 

Harry grinned wickedly and began to return the favor. He got three buttons down before the other teen asked, "What are you doing?" He had paused momentarily, but then continued to the bottom.

"Turnabout's fair play, love," Harry replied, looking into the other's eyes. They were already silver, from what he could tell in the flickering light.

"You are truly beautiful when you're happy, Harry," the vampire said, leaning closer. He brushed Harry's bangs aside again, then his lips fell to Harry's neck. But strangely enough, he didn't bite yet, just kissed the Gryffindor until the boy shivered, as he removed the shirt completely.

Harry was tossed back against the cushions and in a moment, the vampire pinned him down, placing his right arm behind Harry's neck and the other under his right shoulder. For a moment, Harry looked at the other, tracing the outlines of his pectoral muscles with his eyes, and following the lines down to his abs. But then fangs bared, and the hand turned Harry's head away, so that he couldn't see a thing, except the crackling fire.

That same fire spread through Harry's shoulder as the fangs sank deep into the flesh on his chest muscles. It reached from the bite mark itself to the tips of his fingers, then to the tips of his toes. Harry grabbed the other boy's arms for something to hold onto. He wrapped his fingers in the silk pajama shirt that the vampire wore and waited.

As the fire in Harry's veins turned to ice, he shivered and the vampire withdrew his fangs. He soothingly kissed the new bite mark, then each previous from the past week, ending up with Harry's right cheek. 

Harry's fingers disentangled from the shirt folds and he lay there for a few moments almost without breathing, but certainly without moving. His head was still turned to the left side, and he opened and closed his eyes to cut through the dizziness. 

"Harry. Oh, bollocks. You're crying," the vampire breathed, turning Harry's head back so that he could look him in the eye. 

Harry reached up sluggishly with his right hand, feeling the slightly stiffened muscle and wiped the tear off his cheek. "I'm okay," he rasped. "You know… you've got a bit of green in your eyes just now."

"Really?" the vampire asked, sitting back across Harry's waist. "As long as my hair's not turning black. Wouldn't go with my complexion in the slightest." He ran his now warmer hands down Harry's abs, barely brushing the waistband of his trousers.

Harry smiled weakly, moving his hands to the narrowest part of the vampire's body. "The potion, love?"

The immortal smacked his forehead. "Right! The potion!" He pushed up off the couch and pulled a bottle from the cloak sitting on the table near the door. He helped Harry to a sitting position as the Gryffindor drank the bitter liquid.

"I really wish we didn't have to put quite so much rat liver in this," Harry said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Yes, rat liver does taste terrible, but…"

"It's the active ingredient," Harry finished. "I know." He lay back down and breathed quietly.

"Harry," the immortal began. "Love. You know I'd take it for you if I could." He lifted Harry's jaw and made sure that he looked into the emerald orbs. 

"I know."

The blonde propped him up, and then pulled the smaller teen into his lap. "Better now?" he asked as he pulled a blanket over the half-naked Gryffindor.

The raven-haired boy nodded, saying, "Never better," as strong arms wrapped around him. Harry leaned into the embrace and fell asleep. 

Morning dawned again, bringing Harry out of a sound slumber, to find the other wrapped tightly around him. Harry's hands were left in his lap, covered by the blanket. Not a single drop of blood rested on Harry's skin, as he looked at the new bite, and stroked it with his left hand. 

"Harry? You awake, love?"

Harry smiled. "How is that I always wake up before you?"

"Some mysteries of the universe are never to be explained. Happy Christmas Eve, Harry," the blonde said, kissing Harry on the side of his neck.

"Happy Christmas Eve, love," Harry replied, meeting the lips of his vampire Master in a light kiss.

"So, did you want to exchange presents together tomorrow after breakfast, or after dinner?"

Harry shrugged. "Your choice. I think you'll like what I got you."

"And I know that you will," he said, as the two sat up. "I wish you'd let me fix these scars, Harry." The vampire trailed his hand down the white and pink scars of Harry's lower back.

Harry turned and lifted his eyebrow. 

"All right. They're badges of honor and reminders of your strength. But they do tend to draw the eye downward," the blonde sighed. 

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Only if you do want to go to breakfast sometime this century. Put your shirt on, or we won't get anywhere," he said, kissing Harry's scar again. "Let's go, Casanova."

Harry passed the day in the library, trying to keep his mind off things, and at the same time, do something productive and possibly useful. Books on possible future careers lay opened in front of him. Auror had always been a possibility, ever since he had first picked up a wand. Defeating wizards who were out to kill him and everyone around him had always been something of a hobby. Part of him wanted to play professional Quidditch, just for the hell of it. Especially since it required little in the way of actual magic. 

"Harry?" Sirius' voice called from the other end of the table where Harry sat. "What are you doing here on Christmas Eve?"

"Stressing out. I still haven't figured out what the hell I'm supposed to do once I leave this place," he replied, running his fingers through his shaggy black hair. "I've got how long until I am graduate? About 6 months? I get more post every day from the Ministry, from every Quidditch club in the United Kingdom and two National Teams."

"You could always try for the Aurors' Guild or Magical Law Enforcement, like me." Sirius stood in front of the table, directly across from his apprehensive godson. 

Harry laughed. "It's all I've ever done. When I was 11, I defeated a Dark Wizard, at 12, a basilisk and a charmed diary. At 13, I saved your pathetic arse, then at 14, faced down Voldemort again. At 16, I finally defeated Voldemort, ended up hospitalized, and now, I finally have a year Voldemort-free, and I couldn't be happier."

Sirius sat down. "You're right."

Harry sighed. "I suppose I might miss it, but I know there's more out there than the life everyone expects 'the Great Harry Potter' to lead. It's just…"

"You could always do what I did. Sit around on my ass for a year, while your dad dated your mum, got married and became an Auror," Sirius replied. "But I got a motorcycle and a lot of whiskey out of the deal. Cemented my reputation as a party animal."

"I am sensing an 'unfortunately' here," Harry countered skeptically.

"Unfortunately, I lost contact with Remus and Peter, and basically mucked up the whole of our lives."

"Ah," Harry said, turning a page in one of the books. "There's usually a catch when it sounds that good, Sirius. Life's taught me that."

"What's Ron going to do?" Sirius asked, taking another of the books and flipped through, looking at the pictures.

"Aurors' Guild, I think. And Hermione too. They might be the most famous husband and wife Auror team in decades," Harry replied, flipping the page again. "Well, except for the Longbottoms."

"And the rest of your friends?"

Harry sighed. "Neville is going to do research with one of Sprout's colleagues in Mesopotamia. Dean's going to play football for a scout team in England, and Seamus is headed for Magical Law Enforcement. They're pretty much it at this point." Harry scratched his forehead and sighed again. 

"And…"

"And _he_ is rich enough that he doesn't have to work. So he's probably on the one year Sirius-sitting-on-your-ass plan," Harry retorted with a smile. "Right now that's sounding pretty damn good."

"You don't have to have all the answers now, Harry," Sirius replied, ruffling his godson's hair.

Harry closed one of the books. "It would most certainly help, godfather."

"That's part of life. Much as it pains me to say that, I still don't have all the answers," the older wizard said.

"No. You just act like you do, Padfoot."

--00--

Thanks to all my excellent reviewers!

_Sorry for the delay, but between MCATs, end of term exams and stress about being a senior next year, I am about to keel over dead… and although I had a long weekend recently, my mom came to see me, and I didn't get any of my shit taken care of between Saturday and Sunday. But on the plus side, I have __CoS__ in widescreen on __DVD__!!!! Yea for movies. By May 10th, I will have all the time in the world to work on fanfic… bear with me until then._

_S_

_RaNdOm Hp FaN_


	6. Prologue Part 6

Disclaimer: If you think this is mine, you need serious psychiatric help. I would be happy to recommend a therapist, should you need one. If I owned them why would I post here?

"_Doubt thou the stars are fire,_

_ Doubt that the sun doth move,_

_ Doubt truth to be a liar,_

_ But never doubt I love."_

_ -- Hamlet, Act II, Scene ii_

Part 6: Love's Madness

Christmas night was uneventful, and Harry slept straight through till morning. Presents were exchanged; gift papers littered the floor of the Common Rooms and songs of Christmastime wafted through the air. Harry kept worrying about his future, and that of his **friend**. While Hermione and Ron tried to get Harry involved in the holiday celebrations, they only succeeded in making him move farther toward a window, where he looked out over the pitch again, to see a single figure flying on a broomstick.

"What're you looking at, Harry?" Neville asked, walking closer.

"Just wondering whether or not it's too cold outside for me to go flying. After Malfoy finishes, that is. I haven't been on the Firebolt in far too long," Harry said.

"Harry, it's only been a week. Maybe you should really play Quidditch, like everyone's been asking you to do," Neville laughed.

Harry smiled weakly. "It helps me think. I can't think if it's my job."

Neville sighed. 

"I know, I know. It's just, the only thing I've ever been good at besides Quidditch is DADA and Care of Magical Creatures," Harry said. "I would sort of like to go do some dragon-wrangling like Ron's older brother, but other than that, I can't imagine doing anything else for the rest of my life."

"So maybe you should. Wait. You were raised by Muggles, right?"

Harry stopped. "Yes, but I'm not going back to my relatives. They are evil incarnate. And I've faced Voldemort 6 times, so that ought to be saying something."

"I wasn't saying that. I was saying that maybe you should do what Dean has done. Consider a Muggle career. There's an entire Ministry office that deals with falsifying Muggle documentation for those who need it."

Harry bit his lip. "I didn't know that. Thanks, Nev."

"Harry, I know that you guys don't think of Herbology as a real career, but I never thought you'd have more trouble than me," Neville replied.

"Neville, I never much worried about my future until I knew I'd have one. I mean, having an evil wizard attempt to kill you ever since you were a baby would sort of convince a person that you might not live to graduate from Hogwarts."

Neville nodded, sitting down next to him. "I understand. But you can't live your life waiting for a future that may or may not happen. I learned that a long time ago. I couldn't live convinced that I'd wake up one day and that my mum and dad would be home and well."

Harry nodded. "I know the feeling." 

"You'll find what you're looking for, Harry. I know it."

Harry smiled and looked back out the window. "Thanks, Nev."

Dinner came later than Harry had expected, but he was ready nonetheless. He dressed in a slate gray jumper, blue jeans and his black turtleneck. He should have gotten another turtleneck when he went to Hogsmeade. However, he hadn't quite been thinking practically at the time.

"Harry, you ready?"

Harry turned to face Neville. "Of course. And the two snogging lovebirds are already downstairs?"

"Actually, haven't seen them since lunch. I think Ron wanted to get some quality time with his fiancée. You know that's the only reason that they didn't go to the Burrow for Christmas. Except…"

Harry sighed. "Yeah, they used me as an excuse to their parents. Something about me having missed so much time last year, and they missed me. I'm strangely used to it by now. You know how much we've actually spoken to each other since school got out?"

"No."

"Maybe there was a grand total of 15 minutes where words actually exited my mouth. Tough to tell."

"Harry, you really ought to talk to them about this," Neville said, tying his shoe again.

"It'd be like entering a staring contest with a basilisk. There's no way that I can win, and there's every reason to run from it as fast as my legs can carry me," Harry retorted, as they walked to the door.

"I… I know how much they mean to you. But sometimes…"

"Sometimes people don't see what they don't want to see. They don't want to see how alone everyone else thinks that I am. You, my godfather, Lupin, Dumbledore. They've been wanting me to get on with a normal life… but I don't know how to do that," Harry finished.

"They don't see how much it hurts you."

Harry looked at Neville. "Just remember, Neville. There is nothing that never changes."

After this, Harry fell silent, and Neville just accepted the hushed calm with the resignation of a soldier who had run out of ammunition. 

There were two tables set up in the Great Hall. One consisted entirely of the Staff and more adult guests, and the second was for the students. Everyone but Harry and Neville seemed to have already arrived, and unfortunately, the last seats set were between Draco Malfoy and Hannah Abbott, Neville's longstanding girlfriend.

Harry rolled his eyes at the kissing occurring to his left and took the seat next to Malfoy. 

The war had not been kind to the Slytherin. He had been too young to join the Death Eaters, and instead had aided in the defense of the school. Lucius Malfoy had met his end at wandpoint, in the final battle. Aurors didn't use Avada Kedavra, and as a result, the elder Malfoy's death had not been pretty. Then, the night of the patriarch's funeral, Narcissa had killed herself… a fact that Draco still guarded closely. He had told no one, wanting to live his life free from all others, from that point on.

His grey eyes held a haunted look, and his once slicked-back hair now fell in his eyes with increasing frequency. 

Not that the war had left Harry untouched as well. But if anything, the two boys had a better understanding of each other. The Gryffindors still hated the Slytherins, but respect was earned and given.

"Another day in the Tower with the lovebirds?" Malfoy asked.

"Another day alone in the dungeons?" Harry replied.

Malfoy shrugged, keeping his voice low. "You must be psychic."

"Yeah, at least the Dashing duo kept out of sight most of the day," Harry whispered, picking up his goblet.

"Snogging, no doubt. Unless they have graduated to shagging."

Harry smiled. "I wouldn't know."

Malfoy snorted as Harry took a drink. "To the bachelors. The poor schmucks who have to listen to people like Weasley and Granger. May earplugs and a great deal of whiskey find us."

"I'll drink to that, Malfoy."

"Gods, they have no idea what they do to you, do they, Potter?"

Harry shook his head. "We've all got our own wars to fight, Malfoy. You taught me that."

"And you taught me that a life of quiet suffering is not worth your silence," Draco countered. "How's your back feeling today?"

Harry sighed, as Draco drank his wine. He pulled a face, and Harry smiled.

"You all right there, Harry?" Hermione asked, from across the table.

Harry looked up from his plate and nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah. I'm great. Just… not quite as hungry as I thought I'd be."

"I wouldn't be, sitting next to Malfoy."

The blond next to Harry stiffened at these words. 

"Ron, lay off. It's Christmas, alright?"

"Malfoy, why didn't you go home this year? Your mother must miss you," Hannah said, compassionately.

"I would have, but she joined my father in death last spring. You'll excuse me, I seem to have lost my appetite," Draco said, getting to his feet and stalking out, but not before brushing his left hand against Harry's right. A piece of parchment was passed.

'Slytherin Common Room. Password is 'hot ice'. Bring your present, love and I'll bring mine. All my heart is yours. – Rîw."

Harry yawned and reached for his glasses, painfully aware of the fact that he was being watched. "Morning, Draco."

"I told you that you don't always wake up before me," he said, draping an arm across the Gryffindor's abs, and then gently pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder.

Harry looked down, running his right hand through Draco's hair and said, "You know how many people would go ballistic if they saw the two of us like this?"

Draco narrowed his steel grey eyes. "And just whom would be justified in such an action?"

"Half of the women of Hogwarts. I mean, everyone knows that you're one of the richest and most eligible bachelors in the school, and perhaps the entire Wizarding World," Harry replied, smiling and teasing Draco.

"Oh really, and what about you?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, and my godfather. He hasn't given me any kind of sex talk yet. Granted we haven't had sex, but… well, I can defeat a Dark Wizard or seven, but he can't say, 'Don't get anyone pregnant and try not to slut around if you can help it.'" He sighed. "That wasn't too bloody hard, was it?"

Draco sighed. "It is my experience that people often make things harder than they have to, my love. Mortals… it seems like a lifetime ago that I was mortal. Since I thought like they do, I mean. Even you don't think like they do anymore, and that has less to do with mortality than with experience. The truth is, there is no black and white, often no clear-cut answer or path… You do see that, don't you, Harry?" Draco whispered. 

Harry nodded tightly. "They either have to learn to accept this… accept us or have to avoid the issue. And it's only a matter of time before everyone we know has to make that choice."

Draco swallowed silently. "I know. And I'd tell you to have faith in the goodness of people, if I were someone else. But I'm not."

"Thank Merlin. No, Draco, you aren't. And we all know exactly how they'll react. Dumbledore, Snape, Lupin and maybe Granger might look at this logically. We're just two friends with benefits. But Ron's bound to flip out, and the others? We'd have a better time convincing Snape that Neville was a Potions Master from Outer Mongolia than convincing the rest of the world that this is truly what we both want. I mean, we started dating before the curse kicked in, didn't we?" Harry stretched a bit. 

"Fuck the rest. I'm convinced," Draco muttered darkly.

"Indeed. By the way, we should probably head off to breakfast if we want to avoid out-ing ourselves this particular morning."

Draco sighed again. "It's bloody Boxing Day. Who bloody cares?"

Harry lifted Draco's arm. "So you want to face the world today?" he asked as he got out of Draco's bed.

Draco sighed once more as Harry reached for his bag. Harry pulled out a black long-sleeved shirt with silver printing on it and changed from his sweatpants into trousers. Socks were pulled on next, then black Doc Martens. 

"Harry, why is it that you are always running? I'd gladly tell everyone today if it meant that you'd be able to stay with me forever."

"What was it that told me that patience is a virtue, as is moderation?" 

Draco growled, pulling a shirt from his wardrobe. "I just knew that would come back to bite me on the arse someday… I didn't know that it would be today!" He tugged it on, and then dressed quickly as his only companion in the dungeons packed his bag again, looking for things he had nearly forgotten.

"I can't believe you got me turtlenecks."

Draco turned and smiled at Harry. "Well, that black one of yours was looking somewhat… shall we say 'tattered'?" he asked, arching a blonde eyebrow. "Besides, I have to tell you… that whole 'biting on the wrist' thing is quite off-putting. It's something I'd do to Weasley, but not you."

Harry just shook his head as he also packed the cologne Draco had given him. 

"I'll walk you out, Harry." He sighed. "I wish you were a Slyth. Then you'd never have to leave."

"Sorry. But I don't think I'd have survived in the dungeons during the war," Harry admitted as he put on his heavy winter cloak.

"I know," Draco breathed. "C'mon. Let's get you to breakfast." 

They walked through the silent dorms to the door of the Slytherin Common Room, then paused as Draco placed his back against the stone wall and pulled Harry into a passionate kiss by his shirt front.

They broke apart and Draco smiled, raking a hand through Harry's dark tresses. "Okay. _Now_ you can go to breakfast, luv." But his eyes widened as his gaze shifted to a point beyond Harry.

"What?" Harry asked, alarmed.

"Mr. Malfoy. Perhaps if you two are quite finished, you may explain why I have two teenaged neo-Romeos in _my _dungeons engaging in less than savory activities?" a snide voice asked from behind Harry.

Harry flinched. 'Oh shit!' he thought. "Professor Snape."

"Mr. Potter. Perhaps you would care to explain why you are here, and not in Gryffindor Tower with the rest of your House!"

Harry turned, sheepishly running his fingers through his hair. "It was Christmas and I had no desire for either of us to spend the night alone," he stated firmly.

Snape raised an eyebrow before turning to Draco. "I see. So then you are the Accursed that Albus warned me about?" he asked.

Draco swallowed and nodded, biting his lower lip nervously. "Yeah," he rasped. "I guess I am."

Snape looked at them both, folding his arms in his sleeves and arching his eyebrow further. "You hid it well. Very well done, in fact. Both of you," he said kindly. He then frowned at Harry. "And as for you, Mr. Potter. You have been avoiding me all term."

"Old habits die hard. I suppose I have. I'm sorry, sir."

Snape nodded. "You do realize that Albus will find out soon, whether I tell him willingly or not, Draco?"

Draco sighed. "Then I shall tell him today."

Harry squeezed his hand. "We'll tell him together. I'm as much in the middle of this as you are."

"Only because _I_ dragged you into it, Harry."

"Too bleeding bad, Drake. Besides, if Dumbledore understands then maybe he can call off my family. Sirius only recently found out that I was seeing someone. They… may have issues…" Green eyes sought Snape's own. "But you know that too, don't you?"

The stern Potions Master nodded. "Even if you were merely friends, Black would still have problems with your relationship."

Harry nodded. "There is no black and white."

"No clear cut answer," Draco finished. 

Harry sighed, but paled. "I think I've lost my appetite."

Snape nodded. "To the Headmaster's office with both of you."

--00--

I know, I'm a bit nuts posting this before basically everything I write becomes AU, but hey… Fanfic must continue, even if it's not Rowling approved. By the way, if you haven't seen it, there is a great little article on msnbc about fanfic, and you can access it through my livejournal for now. 

I am waiting with bated breath to see who she killed off in this one, although regardless of who it is, it will make every story of mine AU. Son of a bitch, right?

On a happier note, I have a new idea for a new story, but it will not be posted until SS is finished, and I know that Tears of the Wolf will be finished by my birthday in August, unless something really bad happens in my life. And my mom is undergoing surgery next month, so we will see.

A side note. My birthday is August 16th, and that's a good date, because you get enough time between birthdays and Christmases. But I was born 5 years to the day that Elvis died. So do you have any idea how annoying it is to hear nothing but Elvis' life history and greatest hits on your birthday? It's a bit depressing… after nearly 21 years of it.

Can anyone else sympathize?

And thanks to my beta reader Lexi, who got this file and returned it less than 4 hours later, the day before she left on vacation. She is cool, even though I supposedly don't give her much to do with my stories. *shrugs, then glomps all readers* Bye, and I hope she hasn't killed off Draco, Sirius or Remus… that would be very offputting. My money, based on her reaction is something more akin to Dumbledore or Hagrid getting killed off. What do you think?


	7. Prologue Part 7 Last Prologue

_I sit with them all night_

_Everything they say is right_

_But in the morning they were wrong_

_I'll be right by your side_

_Come hell or water high_

_Down any road you choose to roam_

_-- "Heaven" by Live_

Part Seven: The Leave-Taking…

Harry pulled his knees up to his chin as he waited with Draco in Dumbledore's office. "I hate this office," he said venomously as he glared at some of the former headmasters who lined the wall. "During the war, I'd spend part of every night here, reliving Voldemort's atrocities." He scoffed. "I nearly redid the floors to save the house-elves the trouble."

Draco nodded. "I'm a Slyth, Harry. Like this place is comfortable ever."

Harry glanced warmly at him as the door opened. Draco jumped, as Harry sat still, waiting for the Headmaster to pronounce sentence on them. 

"Good morning Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said as the door was shut behind him by Professor Snape.

"Morning, sir," Draco muttered.

"Professor Snape has informed me that the both of you have something that you wish to tell me," he intoned solemnly, sitting at his desk as Snape hovered behind the two boys' chairs. 

Harry nodded. "Yes Professor. Last night, I was in the Slytherin dorms."

Draco continued. "I know that Harry has been in trouble with his family and friends for keeping secrets from you. This morning, Professor Snape discovered what Harry had refused to tell. I didn't want anyone else to suffer on my behalf and I would like my book back, with your permission," he said, evenly. 

Dumbledore neither sighed nor smiled. "I see."

"And I can be packed whenever you need me to be, Headmaster."

Panicked emerald eyes swept over Draco. "What?" Harry choked. "No. You're not going anywhere without me!"

"Relax, dear boys. I am not suggesting that either of you should go anywhere, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said softly. He sighed. "Indeed, the both of you have nowhere to go."

They both nodded at this realization.

"Neither of you will be forced to leave this school. We can not afford to publicize your condition, Draco, but others with similar Curses have attended this school during my tenure here." He pet the phoenix resting on the arm of his chair. 

"It's only a few months, sir," Harry added, hopefully.

"You are correct, Harry. And I shall do everything in my power to assist the two of you, with a few conditions."

Draco smiled. "I would expect nothing less. Name them, Headmaster."

"The first condition would be that neither of you would ever reveal anything about Draco's condition. Those who do know will be sworn to secrecy with a Wizard's Oath. I shall take care of that."

"It's been rather hard keeping up the charade, Professor. We need freedom to meet when my needs arise. I… would like to be able to pursue this relationship openly, with your permission, sir."

Harry turned to Draco, mouth slightly agape. Of all the counter-conditions, he had not expected that, and his heart leapt at the suggestion.

"So granted, Mr. Malfoy. In addition, Mr. Potter must seek Madame Pomfrey's care after every feeding."

Harry's face fell and he muttered a few oaths that forced an amused expression from the normally placid Snape. "What, sir? She's an overprotective fussy woman."

Dumbledore merely smiled. "And Draco, I want your word that you will not attempt to use any other student in this school. Is that clear?"

Draco nodded, twining his hand with Harry's. "Perfectly, sir."

The elder mage nodded. "You do realize that I will have to inform your godfather if you do not, Harry?"

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. "Yes, sir."

"Thank you both for being honest with me."

The teens looked up and nodded.

"Breakfast is nearly over. If you wish, you may go to the kitchens for your meal."

Draco and Harry stood and made as if to leave. 

"Gentlemen?"  
They turned, still not sure what to expect. 

"Draco, your book."

The blonde smiled, advanced to the desk and accepted the volume, then walked back to his Gryffindor to leave the office.

Once the door had shut, Snape turned to the Headmaster. "Are you certain that telling Black will accomplish anything?"

"The burden of secrecy weights heavily upon the both of them. I have known that it was Mr. Malfoy since Harry's involvement was discovered. They have both suffered great discomfort in hiding these things from their Housemates in the past several weeks and it is a miracle that their grades have not suffered in their many classes. It may be a great relief to them to allow their relationship to become public."

"Or that they will be shunned by both their Houses." Snape crossed his arms. "And if this ever leaks, Malfoy will be cast out from our world and I have no doubt that Potter will follow. The bond that they share is greater than blood."

"We may choose many things, Severus, but not who our hearts choose to love. There may yet be consequences, both good and bad, that I have yet to foresee."

The stern Potions Master nodded. "I should go to breakfast. Why did you tell them that it was nearly over?"

"They needed time, Severus."

He sighed. "Stirring the pot once again, Albus?" Before the older man could give an answer, Snape walked out of the office, closing the door softly behind him.

Harry shouldered his back as he left the kitchens, conversing with Draco in the vampiric tongue. ~So was there anything in the book that speaks of lifting the curse?~

Draco raised an eyebrow. ~I would have mentioned it before, don't you think? Or have I actually convinced you that I like the taste of blood?~

"You're the only one I know who can stomach those damned Blood Pops," Harry said, blithely.

"Remind me to let you try one some time."

Harry laughed. "You are insane, Drake. I don't think that you'll ever get me to like those."

Draco draped his arm over Harry's shoulder lovingly. "Someday, Harry. Someday, I'll win this argument, my love."

"May take you several years, Draco."

"I am nothing if not persistent, Harry," the blond said, smiling.

Harry sighed. "Or stubborn as a mule as the case may be." His green eyes closed momentarily as they paused, outside the Common Room. "Damn, I forgot the password again. Um… Manchester United."

The portrait eyed the duo warily and opened slowly as Draco rolled his eyes, muttering something about uppity portraits along their mental link.

Harry laughed as they entered the room. "Hey, just because your Common Room entrance is a bare stone wall doesn't mean that you can insult mine and get away with it."

"Harry, I…" Neville began, standing up. "Malfoy?"

Draco nodded. "Longbottom."

Harry stepped closer to Neville. "What is it, Nev?"

"Um… right. Ron's been looking for you. You weren't back last night and Hermione's worried that you might have done something to lose points again, I guess," Neville replied, shrugging. 

Harry sighed wearily. "Fun… You know where they are?"

He furrowed his brow in thought. "I think they went to go see Professor McGonagall first, and then to speak with Dumbledore."

Harry cursed softly under his breath. "Thanks, Nev. Draco, I'll drop these things in my dorm and then we can go back to the kitchens or someplace else they won't think to look."

"Keep the bag," Draco said, honestly. "Grab a new outfit or two and we'll stay in the dungeons until they apologize for being overly nosy prats."

"We might be there for quite a while," Harry muttered.

"You were in the dungeons?" Neville asked.

"Yes, Harry was. So what, Longbottom? You were in the Hufflepuff dorms with Hannah Abbott."

Neville blushed as Harry smiled. 

"How did you know, Malfoy?"

"I _am_ a Slytherin, Longbottom. I have my ways." The long buried Malfoy smirk made an appearance, and it warmed Harry's heart. 

Harry shook his head. "Stay right there and I'll be right back, Drake. Try not to cause any trouble."

Draco nodded as Harry disappeared up the stairs. "So… Nice place you've got here, Longbottom."

Neville nodded. "We like to think so."

"You probably wouldn't like the dungeons, then. They're colder, darker and much greener, though if it's mostly from the tapestries or the mold, I don't know." He raked his eyes over the Gryffindor, reveling in the reaction to his dry humor. "This place is a bit too warm and bright for my tastes," Draco admitted.

Harry walked back downstairs but said nothing. He simply watched the two.

"I don't know. I'd imagine that they're much cooler in the summer," Neville suggested gently, sitting back on the couch. He picked up a Herbology book and reopened it.

Harry smiled. Draco was playing nice. He had never personally disliked any of the Gryffindors (except for Ron Weasley), and as the years passed, he gained new respect for many within these walls. But old habits die hard and Draco had no inclination to try and apologize to anyone, much less three-quarters of the school. But the fact that he could be pleasant with Neville gave Harry hope. "All done, Drake. Nev, could you…"

The other Gryffindor smiled. "Don't worry. I haven't seen you; I don't know _anything_…"

Harry beamed. "You're a life-saver, Nev. Thank you."

The two neared the entrance as the portrait opened again.

'Oh fuck!' Draco thought as he recognized the flaming red hair of one Ron Weasley, followed by the light brown hair of Granger.

"There you are…" Hermione began, trailing off as she saw Draco standing there. 

"Yes, but I'm actually on my way out," Harry said with false cheer. "Later, Hermione."

He stiffened as the redhead grabbed his arm. 

"Harry, what the hell is Malfoy doing here?" Ron demanded, glaring at the Slytherin, while bruising Harry's upper arm.

"Ron, let go of my arm," Harry intoned with a voice of icy calm that had to have been learned from Draco.

Draco arched an eyebrow as the redhead made no move to obey Harry's command, locked in a battle of wills. "You would do well to unhand my boyfriend, Weasley. Because if he's too kind to take you down, I will…"

Weasley's eyes widened. "It's you," he hissed. "I should have known."

Harry twisted out of Ron's grip with a speed gleaned from his combat training. Ron was quickly relegated to the wall. "Known _what_, Ron?" he asked, unaware that Neville had stood up and crossed the Common Room. "And choose your words carefully, my friend…"

Draco smirked as he raised a hand to motion both Neville and Hermione to stop their advances. "Wait, you two. It's all right. Harry's got this one," he murmured.

Ron paled, but choked the words out. "I should have known that it was someone like Malfoy. Harry, he'll use you until the novelty wears off and then he'll leave you with nothing."

Harry growled. "Do not tell me of your own failings, Ronald Weasley." He closed his eyes, bowing his head to regain his composure. "You knew I was famous since the moment we met. You have wanted nothing more than to not be overshadowed by me, by fame that I would have willingly given you if it meant that I would have the family and love that you had every day of your life." He opened his eyes, locking them on Ron's crystal blue. "You were happy for me when I told you that I was in love. You take that all back just because he's not who you would have chosen for me? Real friends accept other's choices."

Draco came closer and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist. "Very true, Harry. You see, Weasley… you've got your entire family. We've got each other. Both orphaned, and our family friends are too busy moving on with their own lives to realize what we have. Now, I'm sorry that our life doesn't fit in your miraculous little world view, whether it be due to the dynamics of our relationship or the problems that you and I have had in the past. But I am sure as hell not giving up one of the few lights in my life."

"Neither am I, Ron," Harry added. "And the way that you two care about me so sporadically, I don't see how it's any of your goddamn business who I care about. But if you do anything to jeopardize our relationship, you will regret it, and you will rue the day you ever met me." His fierce green eyes bored into Ron's soul. "Are we understood?"

Ron's face pinched. "I don't even know who you are anymore. First you leave for more than 6 months and you don't even owl. Then you come back, and suddenly, Malfoy's your best friend. And now, you're shagging the guy, and letting him-"

Ron didn't even get to finish his thought as a vicious roundhouse caught him full in the face. "Don't you even dare, Ronald Weasley. Draco and I have never 'shagged' as you put it so bluntly. How dare you assume that I'm the one who changed and that I shouldn't have? If anyone in this conversation deserves to have changed, it's me. I killed that bastard Voldemort; I killed his Death Eaters too. And after that, I took a bit of time for myself. Now, you have a problem with that, you leave Draco out of it. I thought you were my friend Ron. Were you ever, or did you just use me for your own ends?"

Draco had let go before Harry punched Ron. He reacted very quickly, catching Hermione's hand as she tried to slap Harry. "I wouldn't even think about it if I were you, Granger. I have absolutely no compunctions about hitting a woman." His next act was to check Harry's knuckles, kissing them gently. "Weasley, I warn you now. Make our lives hell and you will regret it. Come on, luv. The dungeons await."

With that, the bound pair left the room and returned to the dungeons. Hermione and Ron followed them out the door a few moments later, intent on speaking to the Headmaster.

"Staring contest with a basilisk, Harry. Good one," Neville said, sitting down and picking up the Herbology book again.

School was hell for Harry and Draco when the term resumed in January. One morning, Harry received a suspicious red envelope in the morning post. He braced himself and opened it, with a glance at Draco. He failed to notice how smug Ron's expression was.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING? DATING A SLYTHERIN? ARE YOU MAD? YOUR PARENTS WOULD BE ROLLING OVER IN THEIR GRAVES RIGHT NOW. AND A MALFOY NO LESS!!!"

Sirius' voice rang out clearly throughout the Great Hall until Dumbledore erected a silencing charm.

Harry grew pale and trembled as it continued, only for him, Draco and Dumbledore to hear.

"AND TO HAVE TO HEAR ABOUT IT FROM RON! I CAN'T ABIDE A GODSON WHO CAN'T TRUST ME. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW IT MADE ME FEEL THAT YOU CAN'T CONFIDE IN ME?"

Draco flushed.

"YOU BEST HOPE TO MERLIN THAT I'VE CALMED DOWN BY THE TIME I GET BACK FROM MY TRIP TO FRANCE WITH MOONY. WE ARE APPALLED AT YOUR BEHAVIOUR AND YOU HAD BEST RETHINK YOUR CURRENT ALLIANCES BEFORE YOU DO SOMETHING STUPID! IF YOU CONTINUE IN THIS VEIN, I SWEAR TO MERLIN, I WILL DISOWN YOU, HARRY!!!"

With that, the red envelope tore itself to pieces and Harry sat, staring at the debris that littered the table. Then he did the only thing he could think of. He stood up without a word, stalked to the other end of the table and punched Ronald Weasley in the jaw again.

Draco stood protectively outside the gargoyle, waiting for his consort to emerge. When he did, the blonde turned to Harry, who was pale faced and had red-rimmed eyes. "What happened?"

"Well, I got detention for the rest of the term, to be administered by my Head of House. And I think that Ron and I are officially quits," the raven-haired wizard admitted. "Same with Siri, I think too… I Flooed him in France, and he wasn't happy…"

Draco brushed the hair from Harry's cheek as he pulled the shorter wizard closer. It was only then that he noticed the tie around his boyfriend's neck wasn't red and gold, but silver and green. "Harry, why are you in Slytherin robes?"

"Dumbledore's giving you a roommate," Harry said, slowly. "Hope you don't mind, but Ron's made some threats…"

"Fuck Weasley. I care about you. And if it means that I can protect you on my own, then I want you by my side. And I by yours. The way it was meant to be. And God help any prat stupid enough to get in our way, luv." Draco's voice was tender, but laced with venom. "I will go wherever you do."

Harry smiled quietly as Draco's lips descended on his own. Finally something that was simple and made sense once again. He could live with that.

If anything, Harry's life got worse. He was seen as a traitor by most of the other students, except for Neville and most of the Hufflepuffs, who were happy that Harry was happy.

Pranks were played, insults were whispered, and Harry's only solace was that Draco awaited him after his detention every night. And given the fact that Snape agreed whole-heartedly with Harry's actions that had led to detention, Harry passed the time in unsupervised study.

Harry pulled his tie over his head, dressed quickly in his pyjamas and walked to the bed that awaited him. 

Before he realized it, Draco had wrapped his slender arms around Harry and drew him closer. "Long day, luv?"

"Yeah, Drake. Can we wait until tomorrow, or do you need to feed tonight?"

Never once before had Harry asked to be released from the duty in anything but jest. Draco stiffened, but nodded. "Of course, Harry. What happened?"

"You mean aside from the Gryffindors torture as usual, and the fact that today is Sirius' birthday?" Harry said. "Oh, yes and I had that test in Divinations again… with all the Gryffindors snickering when she predicted my death again."

The blonde stroked Harry's hair softly as the brunette held him close. "Harry?"

"Hmm?"

Draco looked down, waiting for a reaction. "What kind of plans do you have for after graduation?"

"I don't want to stay here if that's what you mean," Harry sneered.

The vampire smiled. "I was hoping you say that. We can do a hand-fasting ourselves, and travel a bit before we find a place we're comfortable in."

Harry moaned softly as Draco massaged the tension out of his neck. "Neville mentioned something about getting Muggle equivalencies, just in case."

"Good old Neville," Draco murmured. "Harry, you do understand what a hand-fasting is, right? It's a magical marriage ceremony."

Harry nodded. "It's what I always wanted."

With that, Draco disentangled himself, went to his trunk and removed a pair of silver rings. "I got these our last time in Hogsmeade. You had mentioned something about getting married, but hadn't set a date…"

Harry's emerald eyes lit up. "Draco! You remembered!"

The rings were silver, with a green malachite cross set into the top of each.

"The ritual itself is fairly simple. All you have to do is say 'I shall' after what I am about to say, and then I say the same while you ask the questions. Do you really want this?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

Draco knelt on the bed, facing Harry. "Harry, _wilt thou take this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after Merlin's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?"* _

"I shall."

Harry then repeated the question, as Draco placed the ring on Harry's left ring finger.

"I shall."

The two descended into a tender kiss, each one cupping the other's face, and morning found them, left hands twined around one another, the rings touching, as they would for years to come.

_"To whom it may concern:_

_ If you're reading this letter, it's because someone finally noticed that we didn't leave on the train with the rest of the students. We didn't even expect you to. In fact, aside from the Headmaster and Professor Snape, we didn't know you cared. We'd be touched, if we gave a fuck._

_ "Don't come looking for us. You didn't want us when we were there, and we sure as hell don't need you. We'll be fine on our own, and we know that you'll get by. You wanted heroes, you wanted sacrifice, and you got it. But sometimes we fall from the pedestal, and we don't want to go back. I know that Harry sure as hell doesn't._

_ "Sirius, I hope you're happy. Honestly, you deserve it. But you need to learn that sometimes, things don't always go your way. _

_ "Ron, grow the fuck up. It's not about you. It's about us. And I hope that you grow out of your selfishness before you have any kids._

_ "Hermione, books can't tell you about the human heart. So don't even try to analyze this, like I know you will. _

_ "Enough advice. Now for the thanks._

_ "Severus, thanks for your support. We couldn't have survived without you. Now if you could just make a restorative without the rat spleen…_

_ "Neville, you're a true friend, and we hope that you do well in your graduate studies. You have a good heart and a wise mind. We hope it serves you well._

_ "Headmaster, thanks for understanding. You didn't have to do what you did, but we're glad that you did. We are happy that you didn't let anything keep us from being together._

_ "We gave you everything and got nothing in return. We're going now, and we don't expect to ever come back. This world is too full of self-centered hypocrites, and we can't wait forever for you to understand. Live happy lives. It's more than you deserve, maybe, but it's still the most anyone can hope for._

_ "Signed,_

_ "Draco and Harry Potter-Malfoy."_

--00--

No, this is not the end… this is only the beginning.

For those of you who wondered why it was called the Prologue, here's why. All this was to set up the reason that Harry and Draco left the Wizarding World. Coming soon is the next part… just have to do a little research on London and the British law enforcement and NHS systems… if I can get any help, I would appreciate it greatly. I've never even been to the UK… if I get no help, it will be AU, according to my world. Shit… it's already AU to begin with, because Siri didn't die.

*And the above quote is adapted from the Book of Common Prayer, Solemnization of Matrimony, "Betrothal," (1662). 

I do own a copy, being Episcopalian, but I do not own the rights to it. And it's not a direct quote… it's something I came up for this chapter… a bit of a twisting of words. But I hope the day is not that far off when we can allow people to love others in perfect love, regardless of gender. (Sorry, getting down off the soapbox now. Yea for Integrity.)

As for why this hasn't updated. Somewhere between the job, three trips to the hospital (a week each) for my mum, the start of a new semester and moving from one apartment to the other, I misplaced the handwritten and had to find it, then haven't had the drive, even with 28 reviews. Sorry. I suck, I know. Not my fault entirely. Oh, yeah, and I'm fixing to be ill again. I hate September. And mum's in the hospital now… Damn classes. Couldn't leave if I wanted to.


	8. Everybody's Fools

The music was loud, the bass was thumping as the live band rocked Enigma, the club in a slightly seedier part of London that Jack and David owned.  The lights were low except for those that occasionally raked over the crowded floor and then focused back on the cover band on the stage.  
  
_perfect by nature... icons of self-indulgence  
just what we all need, more lies about a world that _  
  
Jack stood 6'1", with dark brown hair, highlighted to blonde in places, and streaked with black in others. His eyes were an intense hazel, and they were outlined in black. His clothes were more interesting, though, if one actually got up the nerve to stare. His pants were leather, black as sin itself. Straps ran from the inseam to the outseam on each side, and were buckled in silver, tight enough to show off just about every curve that the man owned.   
  
_never was and never will be  
have you no shame don't you see me  
you know you've got everybody fooled_  
  
His shirt was the same color, but torn across the front and back, as if he had been mauled by a wild animal, and scars lay underneath that, as though a testament to such. The shirt was sleeveless, and black wristguards and a spiked collar completed the ensemble, as did black knee-high silver zippered boots. But he had a ring on his left ring finger, one that told everyone to leave him well enough alone.  
  
_look here she comes now  
bow down and stare in wonder  
oh how we love you  
no flaws when you're pretending  
but now i know she_  
  
David, on the other hand, was a contrast in color. Paler than Jack, the man was blonde, liberally streaked through with green and black as well. He wore a green silk shirt that offset his eyes, and tight black pants as well. Nowhere near as much leather as the man who wore the companion to his ring. And currently, he was watching the darker complected man like a hawk.  
  
_never was and never will be  
you don't know how you've betrayed me  
and somehow you've got everybody fooled_  
  
It was to be a rough weekend, and Jack was trying to get his anxiety, and his nervousness out of the way, before the true excitement hit. This weekend was his initiation into the third circle of his coven, and that was stressful enough for anything. If he screwed up, if he was found wanting, it would be a while before he could try again. He shook his head to clear his mind, and focused on the drink in his hand.  It was a bitter concoction, but the idea was to get drunk, not to enjoy the taste.  
  
_without the mask where will you hide  
can't find yourself lost in your lie   
_  
  
A strong pair of arms slipped around his waist, and Jack set the drink down, looking over his shoulder, to see if he'd have to throw the liquid in someone's face. Luckily, his senses were correct. It was David. "You do realize what night this is?" the voice purred in his ear.  
  
"My lucky night?" Jack quipped, stroking the other's cheek.  
  
"No. This is 7 years since we got together, luv. 7 years tonight."   
  
Jack swallowed. It was hard to think about the circumstances under which they got together in the first place. The things they both gave up for the other, the world that used them and then betrayed them.   
  
_i know the truth now  
i know who you are  
and i don't love you anymore  
_  
  
David slipped his hand under the shorter man's shirt and reached his hand up, to stroke a sensitive piece of flesh or two.   He hated the distance, the way that Jack shut himself off whenever someone mentioned the way their lives had been before everything went to shit.  "But yes... I think you are going to get lucky tonight, luv..."  
  
_it never was and never will be  
you're not real and you can't save me  
somehow now you're everybody's fool_  
  
***  
  
Jack smiled, kissing his lover as they reached home early that morning. The club had closed at two, and after calling cabs for the slightly sloshed, the bartender had stayed behind to clean and lock up.   
  
They lived in a third floor loft in one of the more formerly industrial sections of London. It was a bit trendy, but that ws the way that David loved it. After spending a few years in the smallest, most cramped flats in the city, they had found one that used to be a warehouse, and left all of the rooms open to each other, except for the two loos. It didn't matter to Jack in the slightest, as he had a slight fear of cramped spaces; besides, they never had anyone over to spend the night, so there was no reason to worry about anything of the sort.   
  
The furniture was fairly modern, made mostly of leather, and completely black. Different tile, wood and carpet floors were present, delineating different areas as rooms, and they had a sitting area, a living room (with TV, DVD player and a few video game systems), the kitchen, which had an island with flat-top stove, a large sink, oven and a built-in grill, and a home office, as well as an area sectioned off with Japanese screens for meditation and reflection.  
  
But the bed was the most comfortable place in the apartment. It was king-sized, and covered in soft duvets, as well as comfortable pillows. The sheets were white, covered in a deep navy blue comforter.  Jack had refused green bed-linens, and David hated the side of the color wheel that included red, vermillion, scarlet and all related hues.  
  
David pushed Jack down onto it, straddling the smaller man easily. "I do hope that you're not hoping to sleep anytime tonight... that's what tomorrow afternoon is for."  
  
Jack smiled, arching his back as David bent over, tracing his jaw with deft fingers.   
  
David smirked in response, carefully undoing the other's cuffs, before removing his shirt next. Pale skin was bared, revealing a nipple piercing, as well as a tattoo of a snake curled up on his opposite pectoral. David's fingers grazed a flat stomach, as his lips descended on Jack's collarbone, kissing hungrily, as he moved to undo the fly of the leather trousers underneath him.  
  
The buckles were going to be hell, and Jack was going to regret it later.  
  
Each of them frustrated David, until he finally drew a piece of wood from his pocket and said, "Non vestere," effectively removing the trousers completely, leaving a completely naked lover beneath him, as he began to remove his own clothes.  
  
Jack wasn't being submissive by any means. His fingers worked at the waistband of David's pants as David unbuttoned his own shirt. Soon, the taller wizard joined his lover, sitting back down so that flesh contacted flesh.  
  
It made no difference that it was November. The room was slightly chilled, causing certain rosy peaks to stand up of their own accord, even as David latched onto the unpierced one with his mouth.  
  
Jack writhed under the attention, as David grasped him firmly, giving a few tentative strokes as Jack moaned beautifully.   
  
It had taken them a while to get to this level of intimacy, knowing that it was more about the intellectual love than the physical at first. Jack had always had touch issues, having been starved for affection as a child, even though David was nearly the same.  
  
But it mattered little as David released the abused nipple, having bit it slightly, before tugging on the opposing nipple ring. Jack twitched, as David moved his other hand lower, to Jack's arse.  
  
Jack drew David's lips down to his own, even as David caressed that area, before slipping a finger inside.   
  
David would be sated in more than one way tonight.  
  
***  
  
Jack opened his hazel eyes, inhaling deeply as the sun rose in their flat.   
  
David's right arm was draped over Jack's side, and he was spooned against Jack's back. His chin set on Jack's shoulder, in fact, fairly close to the bite mark that had been gained the night before.   
  
Jack smiled, moving the other's arm off of his body, and setting it gently on the bed. He slipped out of the bed, tugging on his discarded boxers, and heading for the kitchen as his husband slept on. **D is always like this. You'd think he'd be more refreshed the morning after he's fed.** Jack smiled to himself again and went to the loo, before heading onward to the kitchen, to eat some granola or something.  
  
He could use a shower or something, especially as tonight was the Initiation that he had been majorly stressing about for weeks. He ran a hand through his completely unruly hair and sighed. He stank of cigarette smoke and worse, and probably the alcohol that he had consumed the previous night. That was probably what had knocked David out further. The combined total of his own alcohol, plus what was in Jack's blood as well.  
  
He finished eating and headed into the lavatory again, intent on showering and cleaning up a bit, before preparing himself mentally for the ceremony.  The bitemark had to be first.  
  
David wouldn't be there, and he would be on his own.  
  
It wouldn't be that bad, but he was rarely away from his husband. He didn't want to go, but it wasn't as though David was as involved in the coven as he was. It was something that David hadn't fully embraced yet, as it was a Muggle thing.    
  
'I may live in the muggle world, but I will not **be** a Muggle,' David had said.

The thing of it was, Jack wasn't a Muggle either, but he embraced the concepts of the Wiccan philosophies and practices, and faith.  He believed more strongly in magic and the power of it than any of the other 'witches' in the coven.  After all, he could use it.  Without a wand, Jack had discovered the power to create what many Muggles believed to be minor miracles.  It was fine though.  Finding magic in all the world helped keep Jack's faith in the goodness of the world.  Something that had been suspect at several times in his life… especially when Jack and David got together.  
  
Jack turned on the water, allowing it to cascade down in a clear stream, before undressing and slipping under it. His hair was wetted, then he grabbed the cake of sandalwood soap and began scrubbing the club scents from his skin.   
  
He got out, leaving his hair without any styling products, and settled into an unbleached cotton shirt, and drawstring pants, knowing that he'd have to clean up again, but determined to have as little work as possible to be 'pure'.  
  
***

Jack smiled as he was embraced by the other members of the Inner Circle of the coven, entirely of the Third Level.  The ceremony had gone off without a hitch.  It was terrible that David was still in the novitiate level, but he could work David up to at least the second level before their handfasting.  

It was little wonder why David had delayed all talk of their handfasting.  After all, the bond they shared was far deeper than many in the realm of human interaction.  But Jack had begged him for a formal commitment… where words spoke louder than actions, instead of the other way around.

Jack sighed, pressing a hand to his right temple, as a migraine seemed to set up residence there.  "Damn," he said, as they began to walk back to the cars from the place where they had performed the rites.  

"You okay, Jack?" Krys asked, putting a hand on Jack's shoulder.

He shook his head.  "It's nothing… I promise."  Right about then, his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to the grass, caught by the two people nearest him. 

"Jack?" Krys asked.  "Jack?"

Jack began to convulse.

***  
  
The phone rang urgently as David sat at home, waiting for Jack to return, after his initiation. "Hallo?"  
  
"Dave! It's Krys," the woman's voice at the other end of the line replied. "Something's wrong. Is Jack epileptic or something?"  
  
David shot to his feet, knocking over the phone as he stood. "What happened?"  Short blonde hair fell in his eyes as he moved, and he raked a hand through his hair, to move it out of the way.  
  
"We finished the ceremony, and Jack was walking back with me, when he just collapsed... we're on the way to the hospital."  
  
The wizard paced furiously for a second. "Where are you? Exactly where are you?"  
  
"We're back in the city, but we're..."  
  
"Take him to Charing Cross Road," he said, firmly. He walked to the dresser, removing his socks and finding his wand. "I'll be waiting on the curb. Find me, and give him to me, I know where to take him."  
  
He Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron, rushing out into the street to wait for the others. He pulled out his cell phone and directed them to his location.  
  
***  
  
David carried the unconscious wizard in his arms into the Emergency Room at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies. "I need a medi-wizard NOW!"

AN:  Okay, so I haven't updated this in for fricking forever, right?  Well… I apologize, but between grad school apps, and exams,  being ill all the time, and my computer actually crashing and taking this chapter with it… it hasn't been a good time for me.  At all.  Anyways… 

Well, we have the beginning of a plot here, and about damn time, too?  Now you get to see why the first chapters I posted were actually prologue.  I planned this story to be much longer than just the prologue.  

I'll try to be more regular about posting, but if you want to know more, do friend me on LJ or something, or join my yahoo group.  I think both are listed on my user profile page.  

It may get slashier, but likely not on ffn.net, maybe on my yahoo group, though… if enough people are interested.  I hate editing, but I realize that this is a site used by many young people.  *Doesn't want to offend, and doesn't want to have to reload her fics…*

Anyways, brand spanking new computer (not for spanking tho…) and multi-tasking.  We'll see how soon I get the next bit out, which should involve Jack's vision, his time in St. Mungo's, and how exactly this will develop into a plot.  

Since my computer crashed, it took all of my reviews with it… so I am not going to reply individually to the reviews.  However, thank you all for reviewing, and review again, so I can acknowledge you all properly.  And if I get rec'ed somewhere, let me know in the review, because I'm a shameless egotist (comes with being a Leo, I guess).  


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